The Grand Games
by Mandalor V7
Summary: Trapped in the clutches of Jabba the Hutt, Morgan has almost lost hope. Though the arrival of someone close to her ignites sparks for possible freedom. Entering Jabba's Grand Fighters Games Trevor puts his life on the line for Morgan. Rated M for sexual content, violence in latter chapters. Story is a WIP. Subject to change/ improvement based on feed back.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter1

How long had it been since she had seen the light of day? Tatooine's twin suns blinded Morgan, sending a tingling sensation on her exposed skin. The slave girl wore little besides a golden silk/spandex string bikini that more served to accentuate her well-endowed bust and thighs.

A second later Morgan's eyes had adjusted to the light. She stood on a platform that hung over an open sporting arena. Thousands of beings from across the galaxy milled about the stands.

A short electrical zap from the collar around Morgan's neck caused her to yep and turn her gaze from the view. A few steps away, Jabba the Hutt lustfully glared at his slave girl, beckoning her to draw closer to him.

Knots formed in Morgan's stomach. Reluctantly her bare feet crossed the short distance to her captor. Jabba placed a hand on the small of her back, pressing the slave girl even closer.

Morgan's navel was flush to the rolling folds of Jabba's belly. Thick oil oozed from Jabba's skin, clinging to Morgan. The hutt's swampy stench hit Morgan full force. A disgusted sigh escaped her lips as she tossed her head back and arched her back, thrusting her breasts up.

A camera droid floated overhead. The scene of Morgan in Jabba embrace was broadcasted onto a massive display screen. Morgan spirits sunk lower watching the screen as Jabba continued defiling her. Jabba took great joy in dominating his slave-girls in public. The hutt slipped his hand down beneath Morgan's backside, getting a good feel of the curve between her cheeks.

Morgan let out a defeated moan. She pulled at the collar that constantly pinched her neck. Even with her eyes closed, Morgan could feel Jabba's advisor and another slave girl intently watching. A thousand tears welled up inside. Still Morgan remained as stoic as possible. She had to have some control over her emotions. If not, then Jabba would have fully broken her. As defiant as Morgan may have been in her heart more and more, she wondered how much longer she could endure this torment.

A few moments later, Jabba ended his groping session. His slave shifted to standing at the hutt's side. Jabba wrapped his arm around her waist. In a brief defiant moment, Morgan flashed her captor a resentful glance. A sharp shock shot followed soon after. Morgan's mouth hung open, reeling in pain. Her breasts heaved. Jabba gave her a look that was more like an owner disappointed with a pet.

"Let us begin!" Jabba boomed into a mic. A gong sounded. The spectators went into an uproar. From lifts built in the arena's grounds 36 motley figures rose to the surface. They wore a verity of armors, using weapons that ranged from basic vibro blades to high tech blasters. They squared off in two groups.

"Beings from across the Galaxy, welcome to the Grand Fighters Tournament!" said an announcer. "For the first round our fighters will have two minutes to slay as many opponents on the other team as possible. Those that survive will go on to fight in the one-on-one duels. By this tournament's end only one fighter will be left standing, great riches thrust upon them.

Viewers this is your last chance to set your bets."

A series of whistles, chants and,cheers sounded from the spectators. The fighters raised their weapons into the air, pounding their first against their chests. Camera droids flew over the fighters, giving the spectators a good look of each of them on the big screen.

How anyone could enjoy this senseless blood sport was beyond Morgan's comprehension. At the vary least it had distracted Jabba. The hutt's wrap around his slave girl had slackened, eyes fixed on the fighters below. Though his hand still pinched Morgan's thigh. Morgan squirmed in shock.

A strange sensation came over Morgan. It was like pricking along the back of her skull. A droid hovered over a man in battered armor, face hidden by a T-visor Mandalorian helmet. Morgan could have sworn she felt him looking straight at her. The reasonable part of the slave girl's mind told her that was just from being near nude in a hutt's embrace.

"Morgan. I'm coming for you."

A peaceful warmth filled Morgan's body for an all to short moment. Morgan shook her head, cautiously looking around her. She could have sworn someone had whispered in her ear. Though everyone's attention was on the fighters. Besides the only person close enough was Jabba and he chose not to speak basic.

No, Morgan knew that voice…. A name hung on her glossy lips.

"Trevor!?" Morgan breathed.

"Fight!" Jabba commanded.

At once the fighters broke into a full-on charge. Vibrant blaster bolts shot across the arena. Other sounds of battle boomed.

Every part of Morgan's body trembled from her fluttering hear. Suddenly she felt weak in the knees.

With great interest Morgan watched the unfolding blood sport. The fighters tangled in a jumbled mess. A thick dust cloud formed, making it next to impossible to see what was really going on. Still the crowd cheer on the fighters.

"One-minute left."

Morgan's eyes raced from the fighters down below to the overhead screen and ticking clock. Morgan hoped, no, prayed to ketch a glimpse of that Mandalorian helmet. This was her last hope

May the Force be with you Trevor.

At last the timer ran down and the dust settled….

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Hey everyone. It has been a while since I wrote anything. Took down my Han and Leia story for rewrites and then lost it when my computer died. _**

**_This little scene just came to me. I have plans to flesh it out more but would like to here feedback. There are a few other ideas I have plans for. Hopefully this time I'll have the energy to write them. Hope you enjoyed. _**

**_Did some more improvements and am working on the newest chapter. Some current chapters might be rewritten _**


	2. Chapter 2 Battle Royal

The Battle Royal:

BOOM! A blaster bolt exploded into the ground, sending up a fine dust cloud. Trevor had evaded the shot by a split second. The mandlorian armor clad fighter's mind went into overdrive, dodging sporadic blaster fire.

The arena was completely exposed. At the initial battle commencement, the bulk of the fighters had charged head on, relying on their armor's protection or speed to close the distance. Many had been cut down like womp rats. Trevor and a few others had held back, observing the melee that had broken out.

Thirty seconds had gone by. Trevor ducked as an electro whip aimed for his neck. The zygerrian wielding the whip snarled. The whip snapped through the air in a series of dashing strikes. Trevor kept light on his feet, side stepping and ducking when the need arose.

Per the rules of the Grand Fighter's Game contestants were not allowed to bring their own gear. Instead they had to bid on weapons and armor in an auction. Trevor had focused mainly on getting the best armor he could, a proper Mandalorian helmet having been culturally important to him. It was better to acquire the best protective gear possible in order to be ready for the later one-on-one fights. Weapons could be scavenged easily from the dead. That is, if one lasted long enough.

The whip's tendril glanced off Trevor's left shoulder plate. Smoke rose from the fresh scorch mark. It may not have been proper beskar but it held. Trevor continued his deadly dance with the whip, drawing the basic knife he had been given. The zygerrian's whip gave him the ranged advantage, but it also made his moves predictable. Whips had to constantly stay in motion and were notoriously hard to control, even for experienced uses like Trevor assumed the zygerrian was. Trevor used this to steadily close the distance.

Nearly within striking distance, Trevor heard footsteps from behind. He stepped to the side as a gran wielding a vibro polo ax rushed in. The polo ax hit nothing but air. Before the gran could react, the whip's wire cord wrapped tightly around his throat. The three eyed alien had only a brief moment to let out a shocked grunt before lethal vaults surged through his body: eye stocks popping.

Before the gran had even hit the ground, Trevor tossed the knife, striking the zygerrian in the elbow joint. The whip rolled from the disabled hand. Reflexively the zygerrian swung a wild punch with his other arm that was easily blocked. A sickening crunch sounded as Trevor countered with an upper cut punch, nailing right under the chin bone.

The zygerrian reeled back, spitting blood at the mandalorian's T-visor. Trevor in turn slammed his helmet into the zygerrian's temple. The alien crumbled to the ground. Retrieving the pole ax, Trevor finished off his opponent.

Hastily Trevor looked around the sand clouded battle arena. A few figures locked in combat could be glimpsed. Gleaming energy bolts sailed through the air, cutting down a few more fighters. Trevor tightly gripped the gore coated pol ax. The Mandalorian eyed a group of fighters locked in a three-way skirmish.

"And that is time!" called the arena announcer. A high-pitched buzzer sounded. Trevor stopped midstride, stabbing the pol ax into the ground.

It took a moment for the dust to settle. When it did, it revealed a grewsome sight. Mangled bodies, discarded weapons, and blood littered the arena floor. Only a dozen fighters remained standing, some in worse shape than others. Of the dozen, Trevor noted that six were from his grouping.

Trevor leaned on the pole ax, the adrenaline from battle starting to wind down. The air in his helmet was warm and heavy.

"And now a word from the great mighty Jabba the Hutt."

Jabba's bloated form popped up on the screen that took up a quarter of the arena's south-west wall. The camera zoomed out from Jabba's face to show his entire bulk, along with the two slave girls on either side of him.

Morgan!

Trevor tightly gripped the pole ax, grateful that the helmet hid his face. Trevor felt sick to his core. Morgan's silky brunette hair shielded her face partly, as she meekly looked down at her feet. All the while having to have her scantily clad body pressed to Jabba's side and rub his belly. Every so often her face would scrunch as Jabba groped her thigh.

I'm coming for you. Morgan! Trevor thought just as he had when saw her on the screen before the battle had started. This whole plan was a long shot and Trevor still hadn't figured out an exit strategy. Though Trevor had vowed to Morgan he would always be there for her. What else did a Mandalorian truly have besides his word and armor: the risks be dammed.

"Fighters," Jabba's Hutt voice boomed, followed by a translator droid. "You have shed blood in a great display of skill. Some more than others. But you all live to fight in the next stage of the Grand Games. For those on the team with the most kills an extra boon will be given in the form of a celebration in your honor latter to night. Now go, tend to your weapons and gear. For all but one of you will be dead by this tournament's end. Enjoy your last days." Jabba let out a haughty laugh, grabbing his slave girls' bums and licking the sides of their faces.

Sorrowful waves rippled in the Force.

Trevor took a controlled breath, taking a long look at Morgan on the screen without turning his head. If only he had an army to storm Jabba's operations: the Hutt would fry.

Trevor fell into step behind the other fighters. The lifts that brought them to the surface had returned. A weequay guard beckoned to the fighters. The fighters all shuffled onto the lift. Along the way Trevor scooped up an A280 blaster carbine. The weapons previous user having no need of it.

A low mechanical grinding sounded as the lift descended deeper into the complex's underground depths. Trevor figured that this complex might have been some sort of mine before Jabba had taken it over for his own ends. The rock walls were ruff and jagged, minimal lighting used.

The lift came to rest on a rusty platform. There were more guards, eyeing the fighters suspiciously. No doubt anyone of these combatants wouldn't hesitate to take out a rival if the means to do so presented itself.

Trevor glanced over his shoulder at a transdoshan a few steps behind. The lizard-man stuck his tongue out, tasking the air, apparently unfazed by the gore that lined his lips and jaw.

The group of fighters unloaded their weapons, and any other gear they didn't wish to carry, into personal lockers. Each fighter was then scanned and patted down. They then began a trek down winding narrow tunnels. The trandoshan and a few others had to duck to avoid scrapping their heads on the ceiling.

A few moments later they arrived at a naturally open cavern. Neon lights highlighted various entertainment and dining stations scattered throughout the open chamber. Repetitive, tacky club music played from loudspeakers.

"Hello, on behalf of your benevolent host Jabba the Hutt, I welcome you." Said a sky blue skinned pantoran woman, who was clad in short tight-fitting lavender dress that matched her hair which was done up in a complex run of braids. The tone of voice was charming, as she flashed a beaming smile at the group. Subtle things like the way that the corners of her mouth were just a little too tight, gave other impressions. Which was mostly lost on the group of mainly male humans and non-humans.

"Here are the key cards for your bed chambers," The pantoran said, handing them out. "The dormitory is right down the tunnel at the other end of this chamber. Your rooms and key cards have matching numbers on them. Also master Jabba wanted me to encourage you to take advantage of the recreational services we have to offer. If there's anything you desire just say the word to me and my fellow serving girls."

"Good to know, baby." Said a weequay fighter as he copped a feel up the hostess's side. The pantoran woman's cheeks turned a royal purple, laughing him off, and getting some distance from him.

"We do have specific staff to aid in any physical relaxation you may want. Please enjoy."

The group of fighters broke up into smaller groups. Trevor ended up wondering on his. He really would have just preferred to turn in for the night. Yet that might look somewhat suspicious. Trevor also needed to gather what intel he could about the compound.

So, the Mandalorian took a seat at a table that had a good view of things. To his left, a group of fighters were playing holo games and drinking beer. Else another group watched a twi'lik girl pole dance. The albino twi'lik, clad in nothing but black leather wraps, nimbly spun around the pole, ass, breasts, and head tails shaking for the on looks' delight.

A shutter traveled through Trevor's body, realizing that it could very well be Morgan that could be forced to perform like that. It was a relief and frustrating that she wasn't here.

In order for Trevor to get Morgan out he would have to know about the security around her. The fact that Morgan was at Jabba's side during the sporting event made it clear that she had become a personal favorite of the Hutt, which would make things even more next to impossible than they already appeared.

"Like what you see?"

_What?_

Having been so lost in thought Trevor hadn't noticed the person that had sat next to him. She was a mirialan, olive green skin, dressed in a worn gray flight suit framed by a twin blaster harness. The right side of her head was completely shaved, and the other half was in dreadlocks. A trio of studs ran down her nose. Trevor also noted several faded overlapping tattoos on her neck but the lack of face tattoos that were common for mirialan.

"The twi'lik girl?" The mirianlan woman said with a shrug. "You think she's sexy?"

"Yeah, I guess." Trevor wasn't sure what she was getting at.

"Then there must be some other reason why you're sitting here by yourself." She nodded her head to the other fighters that were getting intoxicated, hollering at the stage dancer. "Velma Dorm," she said nodding and extending out a hand.

"Trevor Ordo." Trevor shook Velma's hand, noting how firm and dexterous her grip was. Clearly someone well versed in combat. The faded neck art probably indicated she had served plenty of jail time as well.

"So, you're the one who got the mando helmet." Velma looked at her reflection in the T-visor. "That's some good piece of kit. Mind if I try it on?"

"No…"

"Oh." Velma arched an eyebrow, leaning back, and smirking. "So, you're the real deal. Or, at least you're trying to act like it. Which I have to say make things a bit more interesting."

"What are you getting at?" Trevor snapped, voice containing the slightest hint of anger. He got up starting to walk away.

"Just sizing up the playing field is all. In this sort of tournament there are those with some level of nothing to lose or everything to gain. Heard the Imperials cracked down on your people pretty hard a year back. Just wondering what sort of side, you lean on?"

"Both," Trevor honestly answered. "What about you."

"Me?" A sly smile crossed Velma's face. "I'm just here for the thrill of the fight."

Trevor nodded and walked away. For the next few hours, he wondered the common area, doing what intel gathering he could. His commlink chimed.

"Master Jabba requests your presence."

Trevor looked around, noting the other fighters from his team in the arena where also pulling out their comlinks. Trevor clenched his fist, looked like he was about to meet Jabba the Hutt.


	3. Chapter 3: Pleasing Jabba

Star Wars 7

The arena crowd let out a wild cheer. Two Acklay creatures engaged in a vicious fight, razor sharp teeth aiming for the other's long neck.

Morgan pitied these poor creatures. As monsters as they looked, like most fated to entertain Jabba's court, they had little choice in the matter. Starvation, isolation, and pain were the means that Jabba often used on his victims no matter how fearsome or meek they were.

By this point, Morgan's feet were killing her from standing on the hot sandstone platform for six hours straight. The brunette slave girl leaned on her captor's side simply to not collapse and be punished for doing so. Her scantily clad body glistened from sweat, sticking to Jabba's side.

Board with the current entertainment, Jabba shifted his large orange reptilian eyes to his slave girl. Morgan's breasts rose and fell in shallow rhythmic breaths. The hutt's drool coated tongue licked the plump mounds, enjoying the salty taste from her perspiration. A soft moan was all the reaction from Morgan. So different from the spirted, frightened girl that had been brought to Jabba several weeks before hand.

A small part of Jabba hoped she hadn't completely lost her spark. Breaking the slave girl was Jabba's favorite part of the process. It was best when it was drawn out in a winding showdown. If the slave proved to be more difficult, their death would also be greatly entertaining.

"Kavh'a nar slumshu." Jabba billowed.

Morgan let out a long self-defeating sigh. In hutties Jabba's command translated as _Mount up prized slut." _By the way Jabba was looking at her, Morgan knew exactly what her master wanted to do with her. A wet popping sounded as Morgan pealed herself from Jabba's thick oily hide. Standing an arm's reach from Jabba, facing him, Morgan reached behind her back to the thin straps that kept the bikini top in place. For a moment Morgan glanced around at the arena and then over Jabba's shoulder where the Hutt's pale, blue robe clad twi'lik lacky stood, holding her shock collar's control switch. Bib Fortune flashed Morgan a toothy grin, leering at her with yellow beady eyes, holding up the device.

[Eyes on me!] Jabba snapped.

"Oh yes mighty Jabba." Morgan said in a shy seductive tone that only her hutt overlord would hear. In swift motion, Morgan removed her top, holding it in the air at her side.

[Toss it into the stands!]

Not wanting to test Jabba's temper, Morgan did as she was told the moment the command sounded. The golden top sailed through the dry dessert air. A handful of spectators reached out for it. A fight quickly broke out among them.

Morgan leaped at Jabba, planting her feet on his belly and taking hold of the top of his head on either side of the hutt's eyes. Jabba supported the slave girl by placing a hand on her bum. The hutt's huge mouth stretched even wider, taking in Morgan's ample cleavage. Drool formed tight seals along the comers of Jabba's mouth and lips.

Morgan's long silky chestnut hair fluttered in the dry breeze as she tossed her head back in an awkward angle. Thick warm breath from Jabba's nostrils kissed Moran's neck and face. Jabba's breathing was heavy as he reveled in sucking and kneading the slave girl's tits.

Morgan let out mixed painful and pleasurable moans. It really bothered her that somehow she enjoyed this. This was the most degrading position that Jabba did with her. Every time Morgan felt physically and emotionally filthy, and a small part of her died inside.

Again, and again Morgan tossed her head back in pleasure. Jabba's tongue ran over Morgan's erect nipples, sending the slave girl into overdrive. She moaned and laughed, digging her fingers and toes deeper into Jabba's flesh.

For a moment Morgan looked up at the clear cloudless sky. How she wished to leave this cursed plant and return home to her father.

Trevor I really hope you have a plan to get me out of here, Morgan thought.

Another pleasure wave rolled over the slave girl, sending her into uncontrolled bliss. Morgan felt her tense calves give out, knees rubbing against Jabba's flesh. Only the hutt's hand between her legs kept Morgan from dropping.

"No!" Morgan's mouth hung open, feeling a dampness between her legs. Mouth still full of tit, Jabba laughed. Morgan felt the vibration roll throughout her body.

Then with a plop Jabba spat out his slave's breasts, dropping her in a heaping mess, hutt drool clinging to her upper body. Morgan got up as hastily as her sore body would allow. She stood before Jabba, head tucked down, doing the best she could to wipe the hutt drool from her body. Morgan flung the drying drool over the platform, raining on the crowd below.

Jabba licked his lips, amused with the display. "Your body was most tasty," Jabba's droid translated.

"Your slave is pleased at your pleasure, mighty Jabba." Morgan dryly said.

"Good. Now remover your bottom, stand on the platform's edge facing the stands."

Morgan knees locked together, unable to move her body at all. He wants even more of me…

"NO!" Morgan raised her head, tears streaming down face. "Please you already had your full of me. I will not do this for you!" A bit of an edge had returned to Morgan's voice, her back straightened, and a small spark returned in her eyes.

"Go to hell you…" Another electrical shot traveled throughout Morgan's body, worse than her last shocking. Completely physically drained, Morgan dropped and trashed.

"AAAAHHHHH!" Morgan desperately pulled at the slave collar. The smell of singed flesh drifted into the air. A burn mark forming on the back of Morgan's neck.

So, this is it? Morgan thought, vision blurred, casting up to the twin suns.

"Master, wait!" The other slave girl, a human with short raven hair, rushed before the hutt. Morgan thought her name was Natial, or was it Ashly? Either way she continued pleading with Jabba. She got up on the platform's ledge. In a grand display she shed her costume. A hush fell over the entire arena, as Jabba's slave girls had become far more interesting than anything else.

Ashley stretched out her arms, barring her body for all. The crowd clapped and cheered. A split-second latter Morgan's torture ended. She rolled onto her stomach, gasping, and looking at the nude slave girl that had saved her life. Her hair stood up on end in a wild mess, partly impairing her vision.

Two guards approached. One of them lowered his vibro pike, jabbing at Ashley. The slave girl stumbled, foot slipping.

"No!" Morgan gasped, futilely reaching out a hand. The other slave girl's terrified sheiks lasted a few seconds. Then nothing. Morgan winced and shed a few more tears.

Before Morgan had time to do more, she was seized by the guards. Morgan's body felt like jelly as she was forced to stand before Jabba.

"Well, get it over with! Kill me!" With her hair in a frayed mess, tear and mascara stained cheeks, and blood shot eyes, Morgan looked like a deranged dessert dweller more than a well-groomed slave girl. "That's what you're going to do to me at some point anyway."

"Perhaps someday, but not today." Jabba spat at his slave's feet. "Take her away. I want her ready for tonight's celebration."

The guards did as they were instructed. A third guard arrived, attaching a length of chain to Morgan's collar. She was then forced to crawl on her hands and knees.

Jabba took a long deep draw from his smoking pipe. The hutt watched on screen as some of his mean cleaned up the mess that was the slave that had fallen to her doom. She should have not intervened. It had been a waist of a decent slave. Hopefully Morgan will have learned her place from this. Jabba let out a cloud of smoke. Tonight's meal would prove most interesting in more than one way.

**Author: here's a little hutt slave girl action for ya. I do think it sets the tone for Jabba's feast nicely. What does it mean now that Morgan is on thin ice with the hutt? Will Trevor actually be able handle seeing her treated like she had been in this chapter? Also I promise that I will be shedding some light on the nature of their relationship. So all of that and more will be in the fallowing chapters. Still unsure how many chapters this story will end up being or how it will end. Please tell me what you all think. Hope you are enjoying it so far. This is some of my best writing in a while.**


	4. Chapter 4

The warm water soothed Morgan's battered body. If she could just close her eyes and focus on the incense coated air, Morgan could imagine she was at a day spa rather than in the heart of a Hutt's palace.

The harem chamber was a special sanctuary in Jabba's Palace. No guests were allowed in and there were only a few guards, mostly droids.

The exit looked so tempting. For a few seconds Morgan entertained a fantasy of running out and making it to a hanger, taking a ship, and leaving this hell hole for good.

Though the idea was just that: a fantasy. Morgan would literally have to make her way through a winding maze of booby-trapped rooms, fight dozens of well-armed guards and guest, and then somehow hack the hanger controls. And she would do this all naked?

No, it was a feudal thought.

"Suma de tel von queerolha simlvv!" One the harem twi'lik snapped at Morgan, grabbing her long brown hair.

"Alright I get it! I'm getting up."

Morgan didn't understand the Twi'lik dialect but had learned to pick up on the tone of voice. A chill ran down Morgan's spine, getting out of the tub. Goosebumps formed on her smooth bronzed skin, water dripping from her soaked body onto the sandstone floor.

Every eye in the harem shifted to the shivering human. The looks varied from scornful to captivated. A few of the girls whispered.

Morgan glance down at her large bust, noting how perky they were, due to the chill, and sighing. Being naturally busty Morgan was used to peoples' jealous and judgmental reactions. That still didn't take away the painful memories from being bullied as a teenager.

No matter how modestly, Morgan dressed other teen girls had hurled insults like Hutt's slut, dancing Twi'lik girl, or bimbo. Dating had had its own set of challenges, to the point that Morgana had given up on finding a boyfriend. The only true friend she had had during those years had been the mysteries Mandalorian warrior, Trevor, who gathered archeological artifacts for her father's research.

Whenever Trevor stopped by, Morgan looked forward to hearing about his travels. Trevor never seemed to mind Morgan's endless questions. Morgan in turn longed to explore the wider galaxy. Then a vacation to Naboo had taken a dark turn.

The Twi'lik harem girl shoved Moran to stand under an arch. For a moment, hot air kissed Morgan's skin, drying her off. Morgan was then brought to another station where she had her hair and makeup done. A sticky oil was applied to Morgan's skin that caused her nose to wrinkle. Apparently Hutts found the oil's sent highly stimulating which naturally made Morgan feel sicker.

"Tul." One of the Twi'liks said, patting Morgan's thigh.

Morgan sucked in some air through the corner of her mouth, reluctantly nodding, spreading her legs.

The Twi'lik woman's soft hands rubbed over every inch of Morgan's inner thigh and womanhood. A wave of pleasure rolled through her from the other woman's stimulating tough. Morgan bit her lip to suppress a moan, feeling a set of fingers run down her tailbone and between her butt cheeks.

The Twi'lik woman wrapped her arms around Morgan's waistline, slipping on a new bikini.

When it was all done Morgan dared to glace at her reflection in the mirror mounted on a side wall. Her newest outfit consisted of a black leather top that had a metal loop connecting the cups with a few golden chain links dangling from the loop, matching thong, and tarnished steel bracelets.

Morgan's heart sank at the simple costume. During Morgan's brief stay at Jabba's Palace she had picked up that the flashier a slave girl's costume was meant she was in higher favor with Jabba. This meant more of the Hutt's attention, but also protection from Jabba's henchmen.

Bib Fortuna's lustful beady eyes burned into Morgan's mind. To all of Jabba's court slave girls were just meat slabs that they waited for Jabba to discard.

The harem chamber's door whooshed open and a Zebrake guard entered. The horn-headed alien keenly glanced at Morgan, pulling a chain length from a pouch. Morgan let out long gulp. The chain hooked to the collar and Morgan was dragged out of the harem chamber's sanctuary.

In Jabba's throne room the final preparations for tonight's feast were underway. Organic and robotic servants scurried about, setting tables around the edge of the main dancing stage area. The scent of spices from a dozen different worlds filled the air.

Jabba oversaw all of this seated on his throne. A teal skinned Twi'lik accompanied Jabba tonight. The passive slave was clade in silver silk straps with matching makeup. Out of the corner of his eyes Jabba noted that one of his men had brought his defiant slave from earlier.

Morgan sheepishly looked over at Jabba as she was led off to a corner where a few other slave girls were standing.

Jabba locked eyes with her, smirking. The Hutt gave a tug on his current prime slave's chain, rubbing her shoulder and backside. Jabba was confident that after tonight's events Morgan would long for his company.

A little while later the wining fighter team was before the Hutt crime lord. An amber scaled Trandoshain stood on the end, dried blood layers coated around the lizard-man's mouth. Next were two Zebrakes, twins if Jabba remembered right, an elder Gemorian that had several scars, a broken tusk and missing a hand, followed by a scrappy Mirianlan female, a Gand and the contestant wearing Mandalorian armor.

"Fighters welcome!" Jabba's voice boomed. "By skill or luck, you ended up on the team that showed dominance this day. Enjoy this feast held in your honor. For this night may be your last."

All the contestants bowed respectfully and began shuffling to the tables.

"Mandalorian come here." Jabba commanded.

The armored man paused mid stride, turning to draw closer to the Hutt's throne.

The slave girl scooted towards her master's tail.

Jabba studded the Mandalorian's body language: strides steady, arms down, hands slightly extended, and shoulders relaxed. He now stood at the throne edge, looking up at Jabba.

"Remove your helmet for the night."

For several second the black T-visor locked with the Hutt's large orange frog like eyes.

"With all due respect, mighty Jabba, I can't do that."

"Trevor Ordo, to night's festivities are about feasting and commemorating with your fellow fighters." Jabba nodded his head as his head as sizzling platters were being brought out to the now seated mercs.

"Yes, Jabba." Trevor maintained a neutral tone, even as his instincts clamored to do otherwise.

"Which is why I would consider it offensive if anyone turned down my hospitality. There are plenty of creatures in this palace that would enjoy a good feast, including my Rancor." Jabba's eyes shifted to Trevor's feet, hand hovering over trap door control switch.

"Well, be careful what you feed that creature. I think you'll find not everything you tried to feed it is so easily consumed." Trevor bowed slightly. "With all due respect, might Jabba. Though perhaps we can reach a compromise. If you allow me to sit hidden the shadows of that corner," Trevor nodded to a spot a few meters to the left of the fighter's table and near an exit. "Perhaps I can remove my helmet and enjoy the delicacies you offer while still honoring my culture by not showing my face to outsiders."

Trevor took in a long breath, waiting for Jabba's reaction.

The Twi'lik girl on the Hutt's tail sheepishly looked to her master, hoping that his anger wouldn't be stirred. Her chain jerked while Jabba thought it over.

"Hahaha." Jabba's deep voice rumbled. "You Manadlorians are as sharp with your tongue as you are with a blade. I will grant your request. Though it will cost you. Tomorrow you will have to take on three opponents at once."

The Hutt glared at Trevor smugly.

"As you wish, Jabba."

_If only I could toss a thermal detonator down that slug's gullet_, Trevor darkly thought.

A table in the designated spot was set up. Trevor sat down in shadows. For the first time since arriving on the dessert planet, he removed his helmet. A cool rush came to Trevor's face. The spice coated air was a little disorienting at first. Every sound was sharper.

Even as a serving droid brought Trevor the first course, his mind was in overdrive. There were at least twenty visible guards, several overlapping cameras, and the throne room walls were well insulated. The entire surface structure could be leveled by orbital bombardment and this chamber would still be intact.

The other fighters merrily sat together, eating, drinking and singing. Velma sat farthest away from Trevor's line of sight. She laughed along with the others. But it came across as forced, always having this glare in her eyes.

Trevor's heart practically burst from his chest upon laying eyes on Morgan. It frustrated him to no end being this close to her but unable to do anything, forced to watch as she moved about serving drinks, being ogled by everyone in the room, and yelled at by another Twi'lik server.

It appeared as another slight Jabba had indicated for only the droid to take care of Trevor for the night.

Every so often, Morgan would risk a glance Trevor's way.

_It's alright. Don't draw any connection between us_. Trevor mentally said. He wasn't sure how much Morgan could understand but hoped she at least got the impression of his thoughts. The process was a bit taxing. Trevor hadn't reached out in Force like this since… well before his past life had ended and he had become Mandalorian.

The nights events rolled into a blur. Decadent course after course was brought before the fighters, beer flowing freely, music played, and dancing girls performed. As things were starting to wind Jabba flickered his eyes open, giving commands.

Without a word the six black bikini clad serving girls were brought to stand in the throne room's center. A bright light fell upon them, leaving the rest of the chamber in darkness. A withering sensation rolled in Morgan's gut. The other girls had glum expressions too. At the least Jabba was going to make them perform and at the worst…. Morgan's entire body shuttered, unable to complete the thought.

"Fighters!" Jabba's protocol droid translated. "You have indulged in the finest substances my Palace has to offer. Now I offer you a sample from my harem."

The light drifted over each girl. Morgan tucked her head in shame; her worst nightmare becoming real. The court laughed and cheered.

"Tonight, may be your last. The last chance for you to know a mate's embrace. You will be allowed to bid from your personal accounts. Let us begin." Jabba wickedly grinned.

The light now solely shined on Morgan. A lump in Morgan's throat pressed on her collar. A hologram was projected over her head: 15,000.

ZAP! A guard lightly prodded Morgan's side. She yelped, rubbing her thigh and now forced to look around the chamber. For a half second Morgan locked onto the shadows that hid Trevor's face.

_Please my friend! Do what you can._

16,000, 21,300… The number steadily went up. The chain from Morgan's costume swayed as she was unable to stay still. The Trandoshain snorted approvingly at her. The Zeberake brothers whispered among themselves pointing.

45,000, 45,257…

_My value is reduced to a number. How can there be life forms in the Galaxy like this?_

77,000: The figure lingered above Morgan's head for several moments before fading away. Morgan tucked her head to her chest once again. Boots echoed as whoever purchased her for the night. A tug forced Morgan to gasp.

"Yes, she will do nicely." Velma said, caressing Morgan's cheek.

_What?_ Morgan dumbfoundedly looked upon the green alien woman.

"Oh, it's going to be alright sweety." Velma ruffled Morgan's hair. "Tonight, I am going to give you an experience that no man can." Her tone of voice was husky and seductive."

"Hey why don't you show us!" A court member called out.

"I don't entertain sleamos like you!" Velma retorted: killer look in her eyes.

"Now come now my pretty."

Velma pulled on Morgan's chain. A guard made sure she followed. Morgan took one long last look in Trevor's direction, unsure what alien woman had instore for her…

**Please review to tell me what you think. I had to sort threw some challenges of trying to stay true the lore and fleshing out my original characters without ranting to much. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. **


	5. Chapter 5: Restless night

**Warning non consenting female on female action in this chapter. Skip if it bothers you it all. Did my best to make it tasteful **

"Get your hands off me!" Morgan protested, punching and kicking as the guard shoved her onto a bed. The guard ignored her, attaching the chain to a hook on the wall.

"Enjoy your night ladies." The guard said, exiting the room and giving Velma a nod. The door locked behind him.

"Kriffing, poodu!" Morgan cursed, pulling at the short leash. The cool chain links quickly heated up in Morgan's grasp. She stood up, trying to get some leverage but only slipped on the silky white sheets.

Velma amusingly watched the pitiful display. The mercenary now only wore a gray button up nightshirt and had poured a drink from the mini fridge.

The guest chambers provided to Grand Game fighters where snug but luxuries

"So, you do have some fight in you, girly." Velma made her way to the bed.

"For all the good it has gotten me." Morgan sighed, letting the chain go. She moved to lay down on the bed, face flushed.

"Looks like you could use a drink."

"Thanks." Morgan hesitated for only a heartbeat before she took the drink. The bronze hued liquid burned down her throat, numbing her nerves.

"Hey thanks for getting me away from those bastards."

Velma laughed. "Anything to stick it to those scum. What's your name sweety."

"Morgan Eruaid." Morgan cheeks burned. It had been a while since anyone cared about learning her name.

"You are recently captured, I can tell."

"Yeah. I'm from a small Mid Rim world called Arnine. A few weeks ago, for the first time, I traveled off world to Naboo. Met this guy at a club in Thead, blacked out, and next thing I know I wake up naked in front of Jabba."

Tears welled up around Morgan's eyes and began flowing uncontrollably.

Velma let Morgan cry it out, stroking her hair.

"Happens all the time. Naboo is a soft civilized planet close to Hutt Space. Jabba's men have been targeting the world long before the Empire. Think they may have even ran the Trade Federation blockade back in the day.

"Well I should have listened to Tre… my friend's advice." Morgan sat up, wiping her nose and tear stained face.

"Probably right." Velma yanked Morgan's hair. "This is a harsh galaxy where the strong dominate the weak!"

"What are you…?" Morgan shoved against the other woman, but her hand was brushed to the side.

The green skinned alien kissed the human slave girl.

Morgan's ears turned a shade of pink, not sure how to respond to the sensation of another woman's lips locking with her lips.

Muuurrrgghhh! Morgan grunted as the alien woman's tongue probed into her mouth.

Velma broke off the kiss, licking her lips, savoring the slave girl's taste.

"What?" Morgan gasped, mouth hanging open. The chains clinked; Morgan slunk back to the bed's corner. "You're a woman! You see what Jabba and his men do!"

Velma shrugged. "It's a cruel galaxy and gender is meaningless. There are simply the strong and weak." Velma took hold of the chain dangling from Morgan's top, pulling.

"Don't you dare!" Morgan clasped her hands over her top, fighting for what little modesty she had left.

"Or what?" Velma mocked. A sharp slap struck Morgan before the girl could react.

"You bitch!" Morgan formed her right hand into a fist, striking at the merc.

Velma easily deflected the attack. "See you're weak. If you were strong you wouldn't be chained to the wall."

"Well you're a horror too. You entertain Jabba and his men by spilling blood. You are no better than a dancing girl!"

Another stinging slap struck Morgan's cheek.

"Yes, Jabba might find entertainment from my work, but I am my own person. I fight for my own wealth and slay anyone in my way. You shake your ass because, you fear what will happen if you don't. You're at my mercy."

Velma's bicep flexed. In a sharp yank the straps holding Morgan's top broke. Morgan gasped, pooling her hands over her ample breasts. It was a pitiful attempt, only managing to cover the nipple area.

"See!" Velma straddled over the slave girl, running a hand along the woman's inner thigh. "Now I purchased you for the night and intend to make the most of it."

"No!" Morgan whimpered. She struggled any way she could fight off the other woman's advances. All that did was turn the merc on even more.

"That's it, bitch!" Velma smiled, inserting two fingers. Involuntarily Morgan's body shuttered, half moaning and screaming.

**So, I have gotten an inspiration spark for the story recently. The next chapter will come shortly. Please give your feed. It just might shape the story. **


	6. Chapter 6 Reflection

_Kriff, kiff, kiff!_ Trevor ran the curse word in his head again and again. Anger of every kind swirled within him. Trevor's mind flashed back to the auction repeatedly. The Mandalorian had done everything he could, betting his entire life savings to spare Morgan a night of torment. It hadn't been enough.

Wishfully he thought that he should have attacked then and there. But how would that have gone? Even if Trevor didn't get blasted down the moment he sprang into action, he would have had to protect Morgan and find a way out fast.

The armor Trevor wore may have looked Mandalorian, but it was far from true Beskar or even another top-notch metal.

_There is no emotion, there is peace_. Lines from his former Jedi life came to mind. Trevor shook them off. Sage proverbs hadn't saved the Jedi from being gunned down by clone troopers. After embracing his Mandlorian heritage, Trevor had learned that anger was natural. It told you when something was wrong, springing you to action. Though acting on emotion alone dulled a warrior's abilities. There had to be an opening when Trevor could grab Morgan without fighting off a small army.

Trevor downed another beer, thinking this over. The rest of the fighters had turned in for the night with their booty. This left Trevor alone with the Hutt and court.

The teal Twi'lik girl danced for Jabba. Trevor's eyes followed her movement as the dancer's skimpy costume sparkled from the overhead spotlight. Trevor had to admit he found the performance arousing, stirring basic reactions all males experienced watching an exposed woman's body bounce in such a way.

During the dance, Jabba pulled on the slave's chain. The Twi'lik girl came to her master, wrapping her arms around his bulk. Jabba licked her body, removing the barely their costume. The Twi'lik girl grinded her front against Jabba's bulk, kissing the corner of his mouth. A smile was on her face.

Trevor shuttered, wanting to look away but couldn't. He had heard how Hutts were some of the best at breaking any creature's will. Even some Jedi and Mandalorain's minds had been snapped under Hutt captivity.

As the Hutt had his fun, Trevor's mind couldn't help but replace Morgan for the Twi'lik. Trevor knew that it was most likely that Morgan had or would very soon be forced to do what the teal alien was doing with Jabba. This made Trevor's blood boil. Also, shamefully, it turned him. Trevor couldn't diene that some part of him enjoyed seeing Morgan in such skimpy outfits.

Trevor had known Morgan since she was fourteen. In the last seven years he had seen her transform into a lovely woman.

At this point Trevor got up, unable to stand anymore of this depravity. Tomorrow would be another long day of pointless bloodshed. The Mandalorian needed his full wits.

A short walk later Trevor was at his chamber's door when he turned to looked down at the door down the hall. A weeping cry echoed in his mind.

_Morgan? _Trevor approached the door, hand hovering mid knock. He could sense two life presences in the chamber. _Morgan if you can please open this door_.

An eerie silence hung in the air. The door swished open a second later.

"Is that really you, Trevor?" Morgan asked sheepishly.

Trevor's heart raced. Morgan leaned on the doorframe, long brown hair in a wild mess, partly hiding her face. A chain length ran from her neck down to her crouch. Trevor was grateful that his helmet hid his face as his eyes instinctively roamed over her breasts supported by a leather bikini top.

"Yea it is Mory. Remember that time when you were sixteen and you stole my helmet when I was in the shower.

Morgan nodded.

"I caught you trying it on because you said you wanted to be a Mandalorian like lady Bo-Katan. So, I offered to instruct you in some Mando martial arts."

For a flickering moment, Morgan's pained face lit up, lips curling into a beaming smile. "Though that lasted for only a weekend. Wasn't counting on the training to be that taxing." A glossiness rolled over her eyes, going back to better times.

"Well we Mandos always train in full armor."

"Yeah, but I wasn't wearing any armor." Morgan playfully punched at Trevor's side. A laughed escaped her lips, which she quickly covered with her hands. Morgan turned her head over her shoulder at the slumbering figure in the bed. Velma shifted a little, snoring away.

"Please tell me you are here to bust me out."

Trevor's heart sank looking to Morgan's pleading eyes. "Entered the games to do just that. Right now, though we can't. The fighter's chambers are locked off with a forcefield. Jabba doesn't want anyone running off in the night. We are as much captives as you are right now."

"Some may not see it that way." Morgan's voice held an edge to it, lost in thought.

"Jabba's Palace is locked down tight. Mory, I am going to need your help. Anything you can tell me about Jabba's operations you can think off that we might be able exploit? Is there any time where security is lax around you?"

"Well there is the harem chamber, but that is in the heart of the palace off limits to anyone save a few guards, slaves, and Jabba. Perhaps the…" Morgan's face scrunched. Her lips opened then closed. "This is sort of crazy but if you could get invited onto Jabba's pleasure barge then security would be lax. I overheard that Jabba is going to hold a party for the tournament's semifinalists on the barge."

Trevor nodded. "I don't have much choice but to fight anyway." The Mandalorian shrugged. "But how do we guarantee you will be on the barge?"

"That's the thing… I would have to get back into Jabba's good graces." Morgan pulled on her collar showing the red line around her neck. "This morning I was brought out as one of his tropey girls." Morgan's body shuttered. "But I defied him and was demoted. Perhaps I could persuade him…"

"Mory you don't…" Trevor choked on the words he couldn't bring himself to say. The armored man reached out. Though pulled back, noting how Morgan flinched.

"Yes, I do." Morgan said, finding her nerve. "If I'm going to crawl in this squalor, then I would rather be climbing up than deeper in." Morgan held her head high, filled with conviction.

"Alright. Now all I'll have to do is fight off several of the galaxy's best duelists. Easy enough." Trevor joked.

Morgan laughed too, holding a mournfulness in her eyes.

"One more thing, Trevor. If I'm going to slip away from Jabba, you are going to have to convince him to…" Morgan blushed. "Give me to you for the night. You know." Morgan tossed her head back to the sleeping alien woman." Not for the first time in her life, Morgan wonder what was Trevor's reaction behind that T-visor helmet?

"Guess I'll have to be persuasive as well." Trevor nodded, shuttering a little. "And, uh, I'm sorry I was unable to intervene tonight." Trevor tilted his head, unsure how to expresses the guilt building in his gut.

Morgan mournfully nodded, getting a mental impression from her armored friend. "At least you're here and I know you did everything you could." Tears welled up around Morgan's eyes that she brushed away. "I'll be fine in time. It could have been a lot worse."

The two of them stood there, unable to look away from each other. Nether wanted to be the first to leave.

"We need to get some rest." Trevor finally said.

The door softly shut. Trevor returned to his room, trying to get some rest. At least they had a plan. It was a long shot and Trevor had to still factor in some variables, but hopefully everything would turn out for the best.

_May the Force guild the way we have set. _Trevor thought, drifting off to sleep.

**Hey everyone. This was probably my favorite part to write so far. Finally got a moment between Trevor and Morgan. **

**Would love to hear your thoughts on this scene. To stay up to date hit that follow button. Thanks for reading. **


	7. Chapter 7 Wining back Jabba's Favore

Do or Die

At the crack of dawn, the fighters were woken up. Burly guards bust into the rooms, armed with shock rods. A few of the fighters did protest to the rude awakening. A few zaps ended the hostilities and they were ushered out.

A lavish breakfast had been laid out in the central cavern. Sweet pastries, grain mashes, and smokey meats were all on full display.

Morgan and a few other slave girls waited on the duelist. Morgan could feel every eye on her as she bent down to pour a drink for a Rodian. The bug-eyed alien copped a feel up her ass.

"So, who milks you every morning?" One of the Zebrake twins hollered. He and his twin snickered, bumping fist, and continued ogling the slave girls.

Morgan took everything with stride, not saying a word and maintained a pleasant expression. Any sign of distress would only serve to invite more attacks. Completing her rounds, Morgan went off to the side, letting out a sigh.

"Hey hang in there." Said a gentle female voice.

Morgan flinched, feeling a woman's hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, I am sorry. Didn't mean to startle." Lyn Me said. The albino Twi'lik had a reassuring smile on her face. Unlike many of those serving Jabba, Lyn Me and her band mates were here at the palace as paid performers. Though Jabba still required the female members to do some light duties on the side.

Morgan envied that Lyn got private chambers and that a court member could get punished for going too far with her. Also, Morgan had to admire that Lyn could somehow endure willingly working in this hell whole. Yet why she chose so, perplexed the slave girl.

"You're fine." Morgan said softly, so no one could overhear them. "Last night was…"

"Hell." Lyn said sympathetically.

Morgan nodded, letting Lyn pat her on the shoulder. Morgan's body shuddered, recalling last night. Since her enslavement started, Morgan had been felt, licked and kissed along almost every inch of her body. Last night though had been something else.

Velma glared at Morgan from across the room: a stout smugness on her face.

Morgan didn't dare make eye contact. She hated that bitch almost as much as Jabba. They both took a sick thrill in torturing others to make themselves come across as strong.

"I'll be fine in time." Morgan said, more to herself than Lyn.

"Keep your head up and don't let them break you." Lyn assured Morgan. "Can't say I know exactly what you're going through but I have been around Jabba's Palace long enough. I was saved from slavers as a child by a Mandalorian warrior named Boba Fett."

"A Mandalorian?" Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." Lyn blushed a little. Boba Fett is Jabba's top bounty hunter. That's why I became a singer here at the Palace. I have great admiration for the Mandalorians and what Fett did for my village.

"Is Fett here?" Morgan did her best to hide her concern. This Boba Fett sounded like he could be a real threat to Trevor.

"No. He's away tracking another bounty." Lyn said sadly. "Though we do have that other Mandalorian here." A bit of mischief rang in the singer's voice. "I just dropped food off at his shaded corner. There's just something about that helmet I find so mysterious, bad ass, and sexy."

"Yeah." Morgan agreed, cheeks burning a little. "Say Lyn can... can you do me a favor?"

"If it's possible, then sure."

"I want to be one of Jabba's throne girls again." Morgan had to fight choking on the words. "Could you help me with that?"

Lyn's lips parsed. The Twi'lik woman's head tails twitched inquisitively. "If that's what you wish. Come on, I'll dress you up and teach you a few moves that I know will drive Jabba wild."

"Great." Morgan forced a smile.

From his private box, Jabba the Hutt watched the first battle for the games' second day. The arena had been reconfigured into a city landscape. Battle droids had been scattered around the maze. If a fighter was downed by a simple droid, then they were truly below any merit.

Spherical hover droids following the fighters broadcasted every movement. Velma Dorn Kicked open a door, making her way up a five-story building, and setting up a sniper's perch. The Rodian, Nand-tul, banked around a corner. Blaster bolts impacted by his feet.

_Clunk! Clunk_

Several battle droids closed in on the Rodian. Nand-tul took a left turn, finding himself cornered and exposed in an ally. Frantically he turned to face to the droids, letting out a curse and blasting away. As he got off his first short several blaster bolts turned his chest into a smoldering husk.

_A disappointing start_. Jabba let out a yawn, smacking his lips. Drool dripped from the corners of the Hutt's mouth, filling his skin's many folds. Jabba continued watching the display, mind only half focused.

The teal Twi'lik girl dutifully massaged her master's backside. Using her hands and feet, the slave's rhythmic touch sent soothing waves down Jabba's body from head to tail.

Off to the side Bib Fortuna watched. The slave's exposed bum bounced as she climbed Jabba's back. Bib's mouth watered. A burning need and desire for the girl grew in his loans. Yet she was Jabba's current trophy girl. The forbiddingness turned Bib on even more.

Blah! Fortuna glowered. The beady eyed Twi'lik returned his attention back his data pad. As usual he had duties to attend to while Jabba relaxed. For over two decades Bib had been Jabba's right-hand man, managing every day-to-day aspect of Jabba's cartel. And did anyone recognize this?

No!

People still thought he was a glorified butler.

At that moment Bib's commlink chimed. Someone was at the door.

Daahhh! Bib hissed as he stormed through the reception chamber that Jabba would often retreat to in between fights. While not as large as the main court hall, it was adequate for Jabba and several guest to watch a dancing girl perform.

The guards stationed in the chamber were ether asleep or busy watching the fight on an overhead screen. All the while the door chime rang.

"What does Jabba even pay you for?"

Bib kicked a sleepy Garmorian guard, rushing to the door. He continued grumbling to himself, pulling up the outside camera feed. The Twi'lik flashed a toothy grin. Outside were Lyn Me and Jabba's recently disgraced trophy girl.

_This will be interesting. _Bib darkly thought.

The soft white robe felt mazing on Morgan's smooth tan skin. This was the most covering Morgan had had the opportunity to wear since her enslavement started. Even if she was wearing the robe as a tantalizing tease, it still felt great to not have her ass and cleavage on full display.

Lyn and Morgan made their way to the sporting arena complex. Lyn held Morgan's hand and used her statis to get past most of the guards.

Despite the situation, Morgan had enjoyed getting dressed by Lyn. They had made small talk and joked. For the first time since her enslavement, Morgan felt she had made a friend.

The other harem girls were very closed off. Ether they were too afraid to speak or just didn't have time to form any connections while doing their duties.

Knots formed in Morgan's stomach the closer she drew to Jabba's private box. This was what needed to be done for Trevor to have a shot of getting her out. Still Morgan wondered would freedom really be better? What sort of life would she live, could she put all this behind her, and what would she tell her father?

The weight of all these possibilities darkly made death appear like a better option.

"Hey, you don't have to go through with this." Lyn said concerned, noticing Morgan's face scrunched.

"No, I do." Morgan shook her head, finding her resolve once more. "I'm a slave girl but being master Jabba's trophy offers benefits and protections. This is what I want." Morgan tried to tell herself that what she was saying was a lie. However, she couldn't deny the honesty in her voice.

If Trevor was killed, or the plan somehow failed in another way, then being Jabba's trophy slave was the best situation Morgan could get. Morgan's entire body trembled at the possibility.

A few moments later, they arrived at the door to Jabba's private box. It was quite large to accommodate Jabba's mass. Lyn rang the chime.

Morgan's heart thumped with every moment they waited. She pulled the thin cotton robe's hood tighter over her face.

_Snaappp_

"Chua wonga. Kay vue sull?" Bib slyly and lustfully looked over the gorgeous woman.

Morgan stayed herself, tilting her head down to show "respect" but not so low as to be completely submissive.

"Chua." Lyn responded back in their shared tongue. The female Twi'lik inserted herself between Bib and Morgan. The Twi'liks conversed. Morgan was only able to pick up on their tone's range.

Bib laughed, glancing over Lyn's shoulder and pointing.

Morgan held her breath, feeling quite small under the male Twi'lik's gaze. She hadn't anticipated dealing with Bib.

Lyn swatted Bib's hand. "Morgan zeu kra Jabba…"

Bib shook his head, bringing his left hand down in a slicing motion.

The conversation continued for what felt like ages. Morgan idly looked down ether end of the hall. A few guests walked by, giving the group no mind.

"Gul zan tiesha shadaa…" Lyn batted her eyes and leaned close to Bib. Their next words where at a whisper. Bib held out one his head tails. Lyn touched a head tail to his. Bib grinned, nodding his head, and stroked Lyn's chin.

"Jabba dil morul quuwy." Bib stepped to the side, looking quite smug.

Lyn hurriedly rushed Morgan past the glorified butler.

"How did you convince him?"

"Best that you just focus on your performance." Lyn said in a sharp whisper.

Part of Morgan wanted to still press Lyn for an answer but then thought better of it. All deals in Jabba's Palace were costly and twisted.

Bib's layered blue robes fluttered as he rushed past Morgan and Lyn. Jabba's booming voice could be heard as Bib talked to his master.

The guards in the chamber got to their feet, eying the lovely woman.

Butterflies formed in Morgan's gut. Her legs felt a bit shaky: standing in high heel boots. Morgan had only ever done basic party dancing before and a ruff session during the first week of her enslavement. At that point, her body had been too spent from a lack of sleep and endless groping for any instruction to stick. And now Morgan was going to perform for Jabba's favor. Morgan just had to hope the moves Lyn had shown her would be enough.

Jabba slithered into the lounge. Every eye was on the oversized slug as he made his way to the dais. The teal Twi'lik, clad in the sparkling, sliver halter bikini, laid before Jabba's belly.

The golden band around Morgan's neck felt considerably heavy in that moment. Jabba's mass and reptilian gaze made Morgan feel as if she was just a speck looking on a mountain. The Hutt wasn't a person, but a force of nature that Morgan would have to overcome.

_Zap!_

"Aahh!" Morgan cried out. The shock from the collar rolled down her spine. Morgan stumbled but stayed on her feet.

"Speak slave!" A chrome plated droid translated for Jabba.

_This is it. May the Force be with me. _Morgan took in one last gulp, approaching the Hutt, and keeping her head bowed shielded by the white hood.

"Master Jabba, your slave wrongfully acted out against you yesterday." Morgan half choked on the words, taking everything, she had to make them come as across submissive. "Your slave humbly asks for your forgiveness and longs to be at your side once more."

Jabba and his men snickered. The Hutt pulled on his current throne slave's chain. The teal Twi'lik shot dagger looks at Morgan.

"As you can see my throne is graced by all the company I desire. Why should I not punish you further?"

Morgan swallowed her fear, tossing back her hood. Jabba's eyes went wide, seeing Morgan's thick dark hair done up in swirling side buns and her lips were a glossy pink. She appeared so regal and pure.

"Because mighty Jabba," Morgan's voice filled with determination, "I perform for you a new dance: The Last Princess of Alderaan."

Lyn inserted a track into the music player. An Alderaanian folk song filled the chamber.

Jabba slumped back, intrigued.

_Here goes nothing._ Morgan broke off a section of the robe, halfway up the thigh, showing off her leather calf high boots and naked upper legs.

"_The most important things about dancing are breathing, confidence, and letting the music's flow guild you." _ Lyn had told Morgan.

The slave girl let out a long breath as she began to spin. Morgan was light on her feet, bouncing around the room. The robe fluttered, giving peaks at Morgan's bum and underwear.

One of the guards flung the contents of his mug at the slave girl. The robe soaked in the liquid, clinging to Morgan's chest and, showing off the burgundy bra underneath. It only took Morgan a half second to recompose herself.

The track's beat mellowed out and spiked in sharp note pulses. Morgan drew close to Jabba, discarding the damp robe. Morgan's curvy tan body glistened. Morgan raised her arms high overhead, locking fingers together. Her waist and breasts rocked side to side and then up and down in sweet motions.

Jabba's mouth watered, eyes roaming over her tight flat stomach.

"Gime!" Jabba beckoned with his hand.

Morgan put on the sultriest look she could muster, stepping onto the dais. Jabba's breath was hot, stick and repulsive. Still Morgan continued her performance.

The teal Twi'lik shrunk back against Jabba's belly, looking up at the busty human.

"Morgan glanced down at the slave. "Come on join me, honey." Morgan's voice was playful as she took hold of the alien woman's chain.

Noting her master's wild lust, the teal Twi'lik summited to the other slave. They then both danced before their master's bulging eyes.

The teal Twi'lik had a leaner figure than Morgan and showed just how flexible her body could be. Morgan traced her hand along her stomach and cupped her larger breasts. Jabba's eyes roving back and forth. Each girl upped their speed.

Then Jabba wrapped an arm around Morgan's waist. Morgan forced a sigh into a laugh. She ran a hand along Jabba's head near his right eye and kissed the corner of his greasy mouth. All the while Morgan shook her ass for Jabba's guards to enjoy. The slave girl then spun around in her master's embrace, twerking against his belly.

An idea popped into Jabba's mind. The Hutt's stubby fingers snapped Morgan's bra. The burgundy top dropped to the floor, exposing Morgan's bust to the guards and Bib. A camera droid floated in, broadcasting the scene to the entire arena.

Morgan's heart sank. Desperately she wanted to cover herself. Shame and embracement flooded every part of her being. Still Morgan continued with her performance, letting her breasts bounce freely.

The song ended. The guards clapped and whistled. Jabba pulled Morgan flush against his bulk.

_I hate you with every fiber of my being!_ Morgan thought, putting on a loving face, and stroking the side of Jabba's head. It surprised Morgan how good an actress she could be when everything was on the line.

_I'm doing this for my freedom._ Morgan told herself. All the while Jabba's slick skin made Morgan feel hot. Her eyes locked onto Jabba's tail switching at her feet. Morgan shuddered at the thought of that thing inside her. Another part of her was twistedly curious.

Jabba's bone chilling chuckle snapped Morgan out of her forbidden thoughts. She turned her attention back to the crime lord.

"Your dance was most… tasteful." Jabba licked his lips. "Lyn you really outdid yourself, getting this girl ready."

The albino singer curtsied.

"So, you'll have me at your side, master Jabba?" Morgan's heart was about to burst at this point.

"Yes, I will grant you the honor of decorating my throne." Jabba sealed the command with a lick going across Morgan's chest and ending at her lips.

After that, Morgan was allowed to put her top back on. The magnetic seal binding the chain to the teal Twi'lik's collar was undone and attached to Morgan's collar.

"Come join me." Jabba gave a subtle tug and began slithering back to his box.

Shock and remorse crossed the teal Twi'lik slave girl's face. "What about me?" The slave spoke for the first time. Her voice was shaky.

"Surely there's room for two." Morgan said, attempting to defend her, adding a bit of suggestiveness in her tone.

"Master Jabba agrees." The droid translated. "Though he only desires the human slave girl now. The Twi'lik will keep Master Fortuna company."

Bib Fortuna flashed a tooth grin. The thug descended upon the slave like a carnivore on its prey.

Morgan winced, turning her head away and following Jabba. Tatooine twin suns warmth bathed Morgan's skin. The slave girl's screams sent chills to Morgan's core.


	8. Chapter 8

_This is just like the Clone Wars all over again._

Trevor leaned back against a wall, poking his head around a corner. Several B1 battle droids marched by. They could have easily been taken out, though the droids where not Trevor's targets.

The Mandalorian tactically entered one of the mock builds, sweeping for any hostiles. For this fight Trevor would need to take three fighters. While they would just need to kill Trevor and one of their own.

Caution was the best strategy in this sort of situation. Trevor had been making his way through the fake city setting at a methodical pace. Rushing around was just screaming to get picked off by a sniper or ambushed by a droid squad.

A lightsaber would really come in handy right now. Trevor mussed. The Jedi weapon would have been great for cutting new entry points or taking out droids silently.

Every so often blaster fire could be heard in the distance. Maybe if Trevor was lucky, the droids would do his work for him. Then again, there was no such thing as luck.

The city streets got wider closer near the arena's center. A thin spire towered over all the other builds. As Trevor was about to dash across a street, he felt an oncoming attack.

Blasters bolts impacted were the Mandalorian had been stranding. Trevor dived through a window, tucking and rolling to the side. The room he found himself in was dark and barebones like so many others that Trevor had searched. Leaning against the wall, the T-visor helmeted warrior poked his head just a hair out the window. Where had those blaster shots come from?

"HUHAHUAHA!" One of the Zebrake twins shouted, charging from the room's shadows. A shiny steel vibro sword blade aimed for Trevor's throat.

_Smart ambush_.

Trevor ducked. The sword blade glanced off his helmet. Trevor slammed his blaster rifle's butt stock against the Zebrake's knee.

There was a sickening bone crunching sound. The horn headed man howled in pain, bringing the sword's pommel down on Trevor's helmet. The impact rattled Trevor's skull. The Zebrake's offhand grasped Trevor's throat.

Gahaaa! Trevor grunted. The Zebrake's fingernails poked through Trevor's under suite's thin fabric, breaking skin. Everything was spinning. It was getting hard to breath or think clearly.

_Let the Force guild me in the way I should go._

Trevor slammed the rifle butt against the Zeb's ribs.

The alien let out a horse cry, ending the death grip he had on Trevor's neck.

The Mandalorian pressed the blaster's business end into the Zebrake's gut, firing at point blank range.

"Brother, no!"

On the other side of the street the last Zebrake twin watched his bother die. He shouldered his DC-15 and let loose a stream of auto blaster fire.

"Kriff!" Trevor dropped to his belly. The building 's thin plaster walls did nothing to stop the blue energy bolts. The bolt impacted all around. One even glanced off Trevor's back plate.

_VOOMP! VOOMP! VOOMP! _

The Zebrake continued horsing down the building.

Trevor continued crawling, needing to get an angle on the gunman.

"Hutt slime!" Trevor cursed. Checking his blaster. The blaster's power cell was depleted. "Figures something like this would happen."

Given little option, Trevor fixed his knife as a bayonet to the rifle. Getting up Trevor B-lined it to the exit. The Zebrake gunman was still preoccupied spraying fire at the window area.

Trevor's heart pounded, sprinting as fast as his dazed body would allow. The Zebrake noticed the Mando helmet and shifted his weapon.

Trevor razed his weapon, leaping into the air. The rifle's knife tip sank into the Zebrake's chest, cutting to the heart. Blood oozed from the wound. Shock filled the Zebrake's face and then a cold sadness.

Trevor's unfeeling T-visor locked eyes with the dying man. A small part of Trevor pitted the merc. Then again, he had wanted to rape Morgan.

In that moment, a blaster bolt struck Trevor in the shoulder. The shot burned like hell but was just a flesh wound.

_Okay sniper on the right-hand side, fourth building, third story_.

In a blur, Trevor let go of his weapon, picking up the DC-15 and leaping for cover. More blaster shots rang out as Trevor rested against the corner of a building.

Trusting in the Force, Trevor held the blaster around the corner and simply pulled the trigger. A five round burst erupted from the weapon before it over heated.

A heart pounding moment later a buzzer sounded.

"And that is it." Said an announcer. "Above all odds with a one and a million shot, the Mandalorian, Trevor Ordo has emerged victorious!"

"Mando! Mando!" The spectators cheered.

Trevor slumped his shoulders, standing up and looking at the stands. He shifted his glare to Jabba's box, which was only a spec at this distance.

_Alright I have overcome your challenge Hutt._

A little while later Trevor was brought to a lounge. Three other duelists were already there, relaxing, and being served by slave girls.

"Hey you made it Mando!" Velma cheerfully greeted Trevor as she lay on a couch and drinking a beer.

_And unfortunately, you did. _Trevor thought while giving a polite nod, grateful that his helmet hid his face. Trevor could not hide the disgust he had for this woman otherwise. Still he walked towards her.

"I see your duel went well."

"Wasn't much of a fight." Velma took a long sip from her mug. "Bug-eyes got fried by battle droids before I could even line up a shot."

"That's not a good way to go."

"It's bad for my rep." A cold fury crossed Velma's face. "Now even after I win this people are going say I had it handed it to me. Though the way I have heard it the droids took quite a few fighters by surprise."

"Well I guess we'll have to see when the others come in."

"You were the last fight of the day."

"Really?" Trevor looked around. Besides him and Velma there was the amber Trandoshan and a Weequay who hadn't been at the feast last night.

"That's good for us then."

"For me at least." Velma had a smug grin. "Soon enough all of you are going to be dead."

"You're quite com about saying you are going to kill people." Trevor tilted his head slightly.

"And why wouldn't I?" Velma shrugged. "We all came here to earn money by killing everyone set before us. To pretend otherwise is foolishness."

Trevor bit his tongue. He wanted to go at her, lecturing that killing for sport lacked any sort of honor. But then that would make her dig into why he was truly here. So, silence was the best option.

The stone dais in the room's back center was noticeably of the Hutt crime lord. Trevor glared at the sliding doors behind the dais, wondering if the slug would show and his face and whom would be at his side.

Bib Fortuna entered the room. There was more bounce to his step than normal. He made his way to the steps, clearing his throat.

"Fighters." Bib's Basic was heavily accented. "His Mighty Excellency, Jabba the Hutt."

The stone wall behind the dais parted. Four Garmorian guards stepped out, moving to either side of the throne. A chrome plated droid stepped out. Then Jabba himself. The slug was joined by the teal Twi'lik slave and: Morgan.

Trevor's eyes darted over her, mind filled with relief, dread, and lust all in a confused mixed.

Morgan's hair was in an Alderaanian royal twin side bun, lips painted a cherry red. Once again wearing a golden bikini with matching hoop earrings and a twisted snake arm band.

Morgan and the other slave sat down before Jabba's belly. Nether showing much emotion on their faces. Jabba's tail rested and in Morgan's lap, which she lightly stroked.

Through the Force, Trevor could sense Morgan's humiliation. Once again, the Mandalorian was helpless to do anything about it. It drove him crazy to no end.

"Fighters." Jabba's droid translated. "You live to fight another day. This evening you will join me on my pleasure barge for a party. We will be traveling to Zulmorm Caves in the North Pole region for the next fights. There your skills be fully tested as they are the darkest and winding cave network on the planet. Home to predators that surpass any of your opponents."

Jabba let out a haughty chuckle.

"The two fighters to emerge from the caves alive will return to fight for the champion title and the wealth that comes with it. May your deaths grant me grand entertainment. Now go!"

The Hutt waved his hand. The pigmen guards closed in on the fighters, herding them to the exit. Trevor shuffled his feet. Legitimately he was tired from the battle earlier and he couldn't take his eyes off Morgan.

Jabba jerked her chain, forcing the scantily clad brunette to have her shoulder blades pressed against his belly. Jabba stroked the top of her head like a prized pet. Meanwhile his tail wiggled against her inner thigh.

The guard behind Trevor gave him a little shove. It took all the self-control Trevor had to not punch him in the snout. But he complied crossing the exit's threshold.

Morgan closed her eyes, unable to look at anyone else. Her entire body shook in fear. The golden collar bit into Morgan's throat. Jabba choked her out, perhaps just simply because he could.

The fine muscles in Jabba's tail flexed, tickling Morgan's inner thigh. Unwanted arousal gnawed at Morgan's mental and physical defenses. She tried to close off her legs and think about anything else.

Jabba was just too large a presence to ignore. Morgan had to admit that she was enjoying the way he was toying with her womanhood presently. That scared her more than anything else.

Morgan opened her eyes to look upon her slave sister who was standing up, kissing Jabba's lips. The Hutt stroked her chin. The teal Twi'lik smiled, enjoying Jabba's touch.

_Is that what I will become soon?_

"Na'gu sorm vule ma sla juz." Jabba's large eyes roamed over Morgan.

"Now that we are alone, master Jabba wishes that you dance for him again," The Teal Twi'lik translated.

"As you wish, Master." Morgan said, far more submissively than she liked.

The music started as soon as Morgan was a few feet away. Her assets bounced for the perverted space slug.

At this point Morgan was just grateful to have some distance from Jabba. One way or another, Morgan vowed this all would be over soon. She would not live her life as a willing slave girl. This was vow she made only to herself for herself.


	9. Chapter 9

Grand Game 9

_What a hunk of junk. _

Jabba's pleasure barge, much like its owner, was a massive brown blob. The thick armor plating that covered the multi deck ship was clearly meant for defense over style. The barge after all would be a tempting target for any of Jabba's rivals. Overlapping burnt orange canopies on the top deck gave shade and the impression of a historic wind sailing ship.

As they boarded the pleasure craft, Trevor also noted one double barreled blaster cannon on the top deck. Probably were a few other hidden weapon emplacements.

A pungent spice sent almost overwhelmed the guests as they descended the steps that lead directly to a banquet hall. Ornate hard wood shutters let in plenty of the dessert planet's natural light while starship grade forcefields kept things at a pleasant temperature.

Tapestries depicting Hutts dominating other races lined the walls. If Trevor were better versed in Hutt history, he might have been in more aw of the scenes, or perhaps more disgusted. Slavery seemed to be a core element of Hutt culture. It was amazing that the slugs even left their home world on their own. Maybe their society hadn't always been so reliant on slavery?

That was hard to believe. Trevor glared at Jabba's mass lounging at the room's other end.

When the last guests boarded the massive hovercraft took off. Rumbles travel through the decks. Trevor had to steady himself for a moment.

The barge banquet hall was crowded. Dozens upon dozens of the galaxy's sleaziest types were always not far to court Jabba's favor or indulge in the many vices the Hutt offered. Right now, their attention was on the duelists.

Person after person approached Trevor, congratulating him on his victories, marveled at his skills, and offered job opportunities.

Trevor nodded politely, trying to keep conversations short. He started making his way to Jabba's dais, thoughts tripping over what he would say. All the while he would catch glimpses though the crowd of Morgan in that dam golden bikini.

Morgan cuddled with her fellow slave girl on Jabba's throne. There wasn't much space on the throne for ether of them. This created a low-end tease of a show for Jabba's court. Many bellowed catcalls or made suggestive remarks to the slave's face.

_Just keep it together. _Trevor told himself. His hands tightened into fists, shoulders a bit tense.

"Hey, looks like you could use a drink."

Trevor shifted his head realizing the speaker was talking to him.

The Twi'lik singer, Lyn, held a glass with a straw in it. "Here."

"Uh… thanks." Trevor took the drink, downing it as fast as possible.

"You're interested in Jabba's newest human trophy slave." Lyn noted, smiling at the Mandalorian.

"You know what, I wear armor all the time and thought I would harder to read." Trevor shrugged, feeling bit more relaxed.

"Maybe to most people. But I have spent a long-time watching people, particularly a man in Mando armor." Lyn leaned in close so no one could overhear them. "It's the small things like the drifting of your steps, or how your head slows down just a second when she's in the T-visor's view. Best advice though, don't get attached to her."

"How come?" For a moment Trevor wondered if this woman somehow knew of his plan to free Morgan and was going to betray them?

"She gave herself up to be Jabba's throne slave." Lyn stated. "That only happens when a slave has completely broken. She may still have some fight left in her, but soon she will realize Jabba has her right where he wants her. Whence that happens her mind will snap and only be Jabba's plaything. Sooner or later Jabba will get bored with her and that will be the end for her."

Trevor gulped. No that's not right. Trevor looked through the crowd, noting how Morgan wasn't minding Jabba rubbing her shoulder. That was just an act. Wasn't it?"

"I may well be dead tomorrow. So, I think I will take my chances."

"All right handsome. But if you want to be with a woman that appreciates a man in Mando armor, come find me later." Lyn gave a flirtatious wink.

"I'll keep that in mind." Trevor excused himself and approached Jabba's throne.

Morgan straightened up, thrusting her chest out a bit. Her hazel eyes locked onto Trevor's T-visor. Jabba followed suit, giving a tug on Morgan's chain while his tail stroked his other slave girl.

"Mighty Jabba." Trevor knew he had to choose his words carefully. This was far more dangerous and nerve racking than crossing a minefield. "This is quite an amazing celebration. I must commend you for the generosity that you have shown me and the other fighters."

Jabba blinked but gave no other discernable reactions. "Your combat skills have been most entertaining as well, Trevor Ordo." Jabba licked his lips, reaching out to stroke Morgan's backside. "Many, including myself, were skeptical when an unknown mercenary managed to secure a spot in the Grand Games. This has netted me a considerable sum."

"I am grateful that my skills speak for themselves." Trevor nodded politely. His tongue felt like led. "As tomorrow may be my last, I humbly request to enjoy your human slave girl's company this evening." Trevor extended out his hand towards Morgan.

Sweat rolled the down Trevor's face. The air inside the warrior's helmet was nearly intoxicatingly thick and warm.

Morgan put her hands over her mouth, face flushed. She knew all this was just a ruse for Trevor to get her away from Jabba. Still images of her and Trevor intimate stirred mixed emotions.

Trevor could sense all this through the Force and had those same feelings.

Jabba gave a Morgan's chain a swift tug, pressing the slave girl to his belly. The golden collar dug into Morgan's windpipe. She coughed and gasped. Morgan slipped her fingernails in the hair thin gap between the collar and her throat. Her body thrashed.

"This girl is a prime possession, reserved for my enjoyment!"

"Though wasn't she last night put up for auction?" Trevor countered. "I had wanted her then and regret the opportunity I missed out on. I would be more than willing to pay for a night with her in my cabin."

Jabba laughed, stroking Morgan's forehead. He hadn't let up choking her. Morgan's face was starting to turn blue.

"If you want this girl enough for the night, perhaps we can work out a deal. The Hutt Cartel Dons are imitated by Mandalorians more than ever since the Death Watch raids during the Clone Wars. I could use another Mandalorian of your skill level as a bodyguard.

For several moments, a pause hung in the air. Trevor glared at Jabba and then at Morgan's struggling form. Trevor had no intentions of honoring any deal made with Jabba. Still just the idea of selling out his serves to the slug was… well no worse than what Morgan had been forced to do.

"You have a deal, mighty Jabba."

The Hutt laughed, slackening his strangle hold on the slave girl. Morgan sat up gasping for air. Her breaths were show and steady, heart racing.

"In addition, you will need to pay 40,000 credits."

"Fine."

"Also give my court a taste of how you are going to ravage my slave tonight!"

_He can't be serious!_ Trevor's gut rumbled. Morgan had a mortified expression. The court cackled.

"Sorry Jabba, I don't do sex acts."

Jabba cursed, yanking Morgan's chain once more. "My slaves are mine to do with as I see fit. You may only enjoy them on my terms!"

Morgan and Trevor turned their heads to the side. Pain and pleased cries came from the teal Twi'lik. Jabba's tail had wormed its way into her ass. Morgan's mouth hung open, unable to turn away from watching as the slave was so casually defiled.

"Alright Jabba." Trevor gritted his teeth. Every step towards Morgan felt like a thousand. The Mandalorian's heart thumped against his armor.

_I'm sorry._ Trevor impressed in the Force towards Morgan. The golden bikini clad slave girl didn't show emotion one way or the other. Humbly sitting up. Even as her head was pointed at Trevor's helmet, her eyes were on the Twi'lik slave.

_Hey just look at me. _Trevor brought a gloved hand along Morgan's cheekbone.

Morgan's hazel eyes shifted to the Mandalorian helmet, seeing her own painted face in the visor's reflection. She really did look beautiful. That somehow was comforting and destressing.

Trevor's hand went lower, feeling every detail of Morgan's slender neck. For a moment, the exploring hand brushed along her collarbone. Trevor plucked the thin bikini top strap between his pointer and middle fingers.

How many times had Morgan fantasied about Trevor touching her like this? Trevor had always been this friendly but mysterious figure in her life.

Blood rushed down between Trevor's legs. His member pressed against the cod plate. Trevor grunted. Morgan's beauty was so intoxicating….

"Oh, come on this is boring!" A thug called out.

The Mandalorian and slave girl's isolation allusion was broken. They felt every eye on them, including Jabba. The Hutt and his court wanted a show. Trevor gritted his teeth. The Mandalorian sacrificed his own modesty and dignity by undoing his cod plate and opening his paints.

The court cackled as Trevor's semi hardened dick spilled out. Morgan was speechless, mouth partly hanging open and eyes wide.

"Hey girly, it's just a dick!" A thug called out. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

For split second Morgan's mind flashed back to one of her first days enslaved. Yes, while she had been chained to a dungeon wall a few guards had exposed themselves to her. Morgan shuddered, brushing away that horrible memory.

"You see this?" Trevor gruffly said, grabbing Morgan's hands, pressing them around his member. "This is what will be screwing you tonight! Do you understand, shudda?"

A wave of heat rolled though Morgan's body. Her fingers could feel the tender flesh harden in their coil. Morgan's mouth watered.

"Yes, Master Mandalorian." Morgan said meekly.

Jabbae laughed approvingly. The magnetic seal between Morgan's collar and chain was deactivated. Jabba tossed Trevor a device.

"If she gives you any trouble then zap with that."

"Will do Jabba."

Trevor zipped his paints and reattached the cod plate once more, tucking the device on his belt. Then he scooped Morgan into his arms.

Morgan kept her arms around Trevor's shoulders as she felt his hands supported her bum and backside. The golden bikini clad slave girl looked around at the chamber filled with the worst scum in galaxy. She feared what would happen if any of them got a chance to have their way with her. That is what she let shine on a face.

The court heckled, seeing her as nothing but a frightened slave girl.

On the inside Morgan's heart burned with a hopeful light. At last she would be free.

To say the cabin Jabba had provided Trevor was cramp would be an understatement. There was barely enough room for the bed built along the way. Trevor gently set Morgan on the bed as he closed the door and checked the space over for surveillance devices.

Morgan sat up, glancing over her shoulder. Tatoonine's endless dessert plans rolled by. "Hey too bad you don't have a jetpack, or we could break out of these windows and be home free."

"Yeah." Trevor finished sweeping the room and leaned back against the door, giving Morgan as much space as possible. He watched as she undid her side buns, letting her hair cascade freely.

"How are we going to jump ship anyway?" Morgan asked. She kicked her legs and adjusted her bikini's straps.

"There's an escape craft on the top deck. I only got a glance at it, but it looks like it should get us off the barge in one peace and maybe get some distance."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Midnight. Jabba's guards are still on full alert for any fighter trying to bail out. Plus, if my sense of direction is right, we are going to be near Anchorhead by then. That's where my ship is parked. So, we really could get away before Jabba knows what's even happening."

"You still getting around the galaxy in a Y-Wing? That's a two-seater, right?"

"Actually, I recently acquired a YT-1000 light transport that has been modified into more of a gunship. Besides more firepower it has some living space."

"Sounds perfect." Morgan smiled. "So, what should we do in the meantime?"

"Probably get some rest." Trevor shifted his head to the side, attempting to not stare at Morgan's sexy body.

"Yeah... you are probably right." Morgan licked her lips and her forehead scrunched. "Or... we could do what everyone thinks we're doing…" There was just a hint of mischief and sarcasm in her voice.

"Morgan!" Trevor shifted his attention back his friend taken a little aback.

"What?" Morgan crossed her legs, placing a hand on her knee. "If I couldn't make light of the hell, I'm living in then I would have broken long ago. Plus, you can't deny that at least some part of you wants me in that way. You were really excited earlier."

Trevor gritted his teeth. The primal part of his mind was screaming at him. It clamored for him to give into his basic nature and pounce on Morgan then and there.

"Yes, you have a sexy body, Morgan." Trevor admitted to her. "And that bikini highlights and shows it off really well. Though I dislike admitting it because that makes me just like Jabba."

"Well that is the best compliment I have received since my enslavement started. Trevor, I would never compare you to Jabba, ever."

Trevor nodded his thanks. "I guess part of me still sees you as that young girl who bumped into me when I came to your father's house for the first time. Though you have grown into an intelligent, charming, and beautiful woman. You look lovely no matter what."

"Even when I'm sleep deprived, have no makeup on, and my hair is a wild mess?"

"Yeah of course."

The duo laughed.

"I love you!" Morgan blurted out. Even she was a little stunned at her boldness or that she even felt that way.

"Morgan…"

"I know it sounds crazy, but it really isn't." Morgan gulped. "My feels probably started out as a childhood crush, but I know they are real. I always looked forward to your visits, how you would take the time to talk to me about art, music, and the wider galaxy. When I saw myself traveling the galaxy, I really saw myself traveling with you.

I haven't dated much. I told myself that was because I felt awkward about my body. Really it was because I compared every guy to you. Dad told me that if any guy I dated stepped out of line, he would sick his Mandalorian friend on them. After all you are the only house guest that my father and I have had since my mother passed away.

So please don't dismiss these feelings I have!"

"Morgan." Trevor put his hand out. Then he sucked in a long deep breath. Slowly his hands grasped the bottom edge of his helmet.

Morgan's heart raced as Trevor's helmet came off. For the first time Morgan saw his face. Trevor had icy blue eyes and pale skin, probably from wearing the helmet all the time. A burn mark dominated nearly the entire left side of his face and there were several other scars. Trevor also had a little bit of a black stubble goatee.

Trevor set the helmet to the side, moving to sit on the bed, and removing his gloves. Softly, Trevor held Morgan's hand.

"Morgan I am in no way dismissing your feelings. But you must understand, I grew up in the Jedi Order. We were taught to avoid personal attachments as our duty was to serve the greater good. Despite this the Order was my family. At the end of the Clone Wars my starfighter was shot down and I had lost everyone I knew. Then I eventually became Mandalorian and lost my clan to the Empire in battle.

You and your father have been the only constant in my life recently." Trevor rubbed his thumb over the top of Morgan's hand. "What has happened to you pains me to no end." Trevor's eyes roamed over Morgan's slave costume.

Morgan place a hand on top of Trevor's, giving a light squeeze. "Sadly, what happened to me could have happened on any planet in the galaxy. Thousands of females are abducted, and no one gives a kriff!" Morgan's hazel eyes locked onto Trevor's icy blue. At least you came for me."

Other words formed on Trevor's lips, but in that moment, he thought action would speak louder than words. Trevor pulled Morgan in for a kiss.

Morgan's body stiffened from the intimal shock, but quickly melted into the kiss. A chill went down her spine as her ample breasts pressed against Trevor's metal chest plate. Morgan placed an arm around Trevor's shoulder as he ran a hand threw her hair. Their bodies intertwined, hungerly kissing each other.

After making out for several moments, Trevor broke off the kiss, catching his breath.

"How long have you wanted to do that?" Morgan asked, breathing heavily as she ran a hand down the right side of Trevor's face."

"For a while now." Trevor smiled at Morgan not really caring about where they were at in the moment.

Morgan licked her lips, the corners of her mouth forming into a smug grin. "What else have you wanted to do with me?" Morgan's voice took on a playfully naïve tone. She slipped her knees around Trevor's thigh, bracing her hands on his shoulders and lightly rocked her chest.

Trevor's mouth watered. Once again, he felt blood rush down between his legs. The taste of Morgan's lips lingered in his mouth. "Well I… I…" Trevor's ears turn a flushed pink.

Then in a split second his face hardened into stern focus. Morgan gasped as Trevor swiftly shoved her to the side. The Mandalorian dawned his helmet and gloves, looking towards the door.

"Someone's coming."

Morgan tucked her knees to her chest. Suddenly she felt extremely cold and exposed. A rumbling rolled in her gut as alarm bells rang in her mind.

"Open up!" A gruff voice shouted, banging on the door.


	10. Finally Chapter

The Grand Game 10

Velma Dorn was the only woman on Jabba's barge who wasn't a scantily clad serving girl. Wearing a gray utilitarian jumpsuit didn't stop men from gawking at the green skinned alien woman. A few males made approaches. A few broken hands and dislocated shoulders latter and most of them got the message.

_Pitiful _Velma scornfully thought, striding around the banquet chamber. So many of them, bottom feeders who would leap at any chance to indulge in any vise Jabba offered them. Those that held true power took what they wanted or could use others to do so.

Jabba rested on his dais, looking over his petty kingdom. People feared and respected the slug because he did hold true power on this dust ball of a planet. And even he was an arrogant fool.

Velma approached Jabba's dais. The Hutt was quite roughly screwing over his Twi'lik. The slave girl let out horse moans and grunts. Her eyes barely fluttered open. At this rate she wouldn't last the night.

Velma shrugged at this. If the slave girl had been strong enough, she wouldn't be in her current situation.

Jabba really must have had some sexual desires to work out. That display with the Mandalorian and Morgan may have been the source of it.

Velma smiled cruelly. And now she was about to add fuel to the fire. "Oh, mighty Jabba, I have information that you will find most interesting."

Jabba's eyes shot open, cursing in his native tongue. The fighters' interruptions were starting to get on his nerves. Still he let Velma speak until he decided to kill her or not.

"You have been played for a fool. The Mandalorian plans to run off with your slave girl. They in fact conspired to do this last night."

Jabba's lazy body perked up. His eyes grew bigger and he shouted commands.

Two Gamorian guards seized Velma, bringing her just a breath from Jabba's mass. Normally Velma would have struck the moment they laid a hand on her. In this case it was better to play it cool.

The court perked up as well. The display earlier had been interesting, and it looked like this one was going to be even better. More than few court members were already chanting for Velma to be stripped and made into a slave girl.

"Tell your men that they have until this conversation is over to remover their hands from my person or their arms are going get snapped off!" A controlled fire was in Velma's voice. Being so close the foul Hutt didn't bother her in the slightest.

"If you have facts to back up what you claim, present them." Jabba stared down the fighter. She might think too much of herself, but he would teach her respect.

"In my right-side pocket there's a hologram com unit that has all the proof you need." Velma said without missing a beat. "It recorded their conversation while I slept last night."

A smug expression crossed Velma's face. Though she did grit her teeth as Jabba was a little to handsy pulling out the com unit. _Oh, Jabba would pay for that in time._

A second latter the unit came to life displaying Morgan and the Mandalorian.

"_Jabba's Palace is locked down tight. Mory, I am going to need your help. Anything you can tell me about Jabba's operations you can think off that we might be able exploit..._

This is sort of crazy but if you could get invited onto Jabba's pleasure barge then security would be lax…"

Jabba's face turned from mildly annoyed to full blown furry. He waved his arms, shouting commands.

"Bring the Mandalorian and slave girl before me. Redirect course for the Salac Pit. They will be tossed in before the day is over!"

The guards had let go of Velma and scrambled off to obey their master's command. The rest of the court was in a frenzy as well. There were a few lingering court members, disappointed that things had turned out less graphic.

Velma brushed herself off, smiling smugly. "Jabba don't toss the slave girl to the dessert beast."

Jabba arched an eye at her.

"Yes, she betrayed you and deserves to suffer greatly for that outrage. But killing her would still be a waste of a lovely slave." A wicked glint was in Velma's eye. "Instead, do take her tonight and ravage her like have done your current slave. After that and the death of her Mandalorian friend, she will be completely broken: the perfect slave girl.

Jabba's massive lips curled into a cruel grin. He and Velma laughed.

_Bang! Bang!_

"Open up!"

Trevor took a combat stance, eyeing the door. There wasn't much room to maneuver in the cramped cabin. But that could give him an advantage.

Taking in a controlled breath, Trevor opened himself to the Force. The emotions in the barge were a swirling mess of rage, fear and sorrow. This made it harder to lock down exactly how many life forms were outside that door. Granted there could also be droids.

"Whatever happens just stay back." Trevor instructed Morgan.

Morgan nodded. She didn't like the idea of feeling helpless, but what really could she do?

Sparks shot around the door frame. The door came clattering down.

"You're coming with u…. ahagggg!"

Trevor punched the guard in the throat before he could say more. The dazed human was pulled aside by a Garmorian. The pig man charged Trevor full force. Trevor braced his back foot against the bedframe, grappling with his attacker.

The Garmorian's nostrils flared. He was two times taller than Trevor and equally massive. The Garmorian used his greater strength to bend the armored human backwards.

Thinking fast, Trevor delivered a kick to his attacker's foot. There was a satisfying bone crunching sound. Even Garmorians had thin bones in that area.

The Garmoian squealed, letting go of Trevor's right hand. His quickly retaliated with a hooked punch to the gut.

_Dan this fake Mando armor!_ Trevor gritted his teeth, feeling the wind knocked out of his lungs. The impact sent him rolling back.

Morgan instinctively rolled to the side to prevent the brawling men from crushing her. Morgan watched as the Garmorian put his full weight on Trevor, pinning him down. Trevor struck at the alien brute, but he shrugged off most attacks to his leathery skin.

Morgan's eyes shot to a knife dangling from the guard's belt. She snatched the weapon and stabbed the Garmorian in the side. The blade bit deep into his flesh.

The alien squealed but continued his attack. Morgan took out the knife, stabbing again and again. At the same time, Trevor was able to land some blows to the Garmorian's face. Trevor was then able to get some leverage, pushing the bulky brute off.

The Garmorian shook on his feet. Blood oozed out from multiple stab wounds. Morgan's mouth hung partly open in shock. Her body was frozen, outstretched hand holding the blood coated knife.

Trevor spang to his feet, grabbing the knife from Morgan's hand. The Garmorian snarled. Trevor charged, slitting the Garmorian's throat in a clean cut.

"Oh my..." Morgan gasped. Violent displays were something that she had been exposed to all too often at Jabba's Palace. Still this sort of bloodshed up close and done at her and Trevor's hands. Well it simply stunned her.

Trevor poked his helmeted head out the door, checking ether side. Then he rummaged around the thugs' gear.

"Everything is alright." Trevor said in his best coming tone. "We need to get going. I don't know what's happening but it's clear that Jabba is not happy."

"Fine by me." Morgan smirked. "This has been the worst vacation ever."

Trevor smiled under his helmet. It really was amazing that Morgan still had a sense of humor despite everything.

"Do you still remember how to shoot a blaster?" Trevor presented her one of the side arms he had stripped from the human guard.

Morgan sheepishly nodded, grasping the cool weapon's handle in a sweaty hand. "Though it has been a while and I… I have never shot at anyone."

"This is more of a precaution than anything." Trevor assured. "Just shoot at anything that is not us. Stick close to me as we are going to move fast."

"Got it."

Morgan pressed her chest against Trevor's back as they walked down the barge's halls at a brisk pace. Trevor felt her racing heart. Morgan's fingernails bit into his left shoulder as she glanced over her shoulder, right hand holding her blaster.

Though Trevor tried to focus his mind on the current threats. He had a second blaster lifted off the human guard. The weapon's barrel swept back and forth down the hall.

Two armed figures came into view. And just like that, Trevor shot two crimson energy beams. Morgan and Trevor stepped over the smoking bodies, picking up their pace.

"They're this way!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan spotted sever figures running down the corridors.

"Trevor!"

Blaster bolts impacted the ceiling overhead.

"We just need to keep moving!" Trevor reached behind Morgan, letting off a few shots.

Morgan did the same, blind firing. Whether or not the shots hit anything, they did slow down Morgan and Trevor's pursuers.

Trevor and Morgan reached a stairwell. The light of day peeked from the hatch. Trevor slammed the side panel. Nothing happened.

"Kirff! It's locked. I am going to have to hotwire the panel. Morgan, you'll need to lay down some covering fire."

Morgan gulped as she turned back to the hallway. Shuffling footsteps and shouts could be heard. Soon a horde of Jabba's guards came into view. With shaking hands, Morgan held out her blaster. The weapon kicked in her hands as the crimson bolts rang out.

A Rodian guard cried out, blaster bolt striking him in the shoulder. Morgan pulled the trigger again, hitting the bug-eyed alien in the face.

Jabba's men returned fire. Some of them didn't really care if Jabba wanted them alive.

Blaster bolts impacted all around Morgan and Trevor. Morgan pressed herself flush against the wall. There was no cover to speak of. Morgan was very much aware how exposed she was.

"Aim for the golden tits!" One crude guard shouted.

Thankfully because ether horrible aim or the will of the Force, nether Trevor or Morgan had been hit. Trevor's fingers delicately ran through the mess of wires. Every blaster bolt impact reminded him to hurry. This was just something that could be rushed. Finding the right wires, Trevor pulled them. Sparks shot out. Then the hatch unlocked.

"Come on!" Trevor grabbed Morgan by her off hand.

Tatooine's twin suns were setting as Trevor and Morgan made their way topside. Trevor was a blur, twisting to blast any guard before them. Morgan felt amazed by this display. The escaped craft was docked at the other end. This was it….

"No!" Morgan cried.

Time appeared to slow down. They were so close to freedom. A blue blaster bolt, barely visible against the skyline, struck Trevor in the head. Spoke whispered from his T-Visor. The Mandalorian dropped to his back in a dead thud.

Tears welled up around Morgan's eyes. Her legs felt frozen, unwilling to move. Out of the corner of Morgan's vision, the green skinned female fighter, Velma Dorn, came into view. Morgan barely registered the woman leveling a blaster at her.

"Drop the blaster, shudda!" Velma commanded.

Stunned, Morgan did as instructed. The weapon clattered to the ground. Morgan still couldn't take her eyes off Trevor's limp form.

Velma snarled. "I'll admit it was a decent plan. And I figured Ordo would be skilled enough to fight his way through Jabba's men. But there was just one flaw. The only way off this barge is the lifeboat. So, while Jabba's men killed themselves I set up here. You never had a chance."

"You bitch!" Morgan coldly stated. A bit of awareness was returning to her face. Morgan eyed Velma slowly walking backwards.

"I'm the bitch?" Velma chuckled. "I think you forget who dominated whom last night." A wicked glint hung in the merc's eyes. "I am so looking forward to round two after Jabba is done with you."

Tears rolled down Morgan's cheeks. "No, I would rather die than every be touched by Jabba or you ever again!"

Velma snorted. "That's not an option for you. Right now, I could shoot you with a stun bolt and it would be all over. Though I think I want you alert as I play with you.

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan caught the glimmer of something shiny. A force pike lay near a dead guard. Without hesitation Morgan scooped up the weapon.

Velma gasped. Her blaster was swotted out of her hands, flying over the deck. The merc dodged a follow up strike from Morgan.

"Oh, so you do have some fight left in you." Velma purred.

Determination rang on Morgan's face as her grip tightened on the weapon. She took a defensive stance, trying to draw on what little combat training Trevor had given her.

"So, you want to play a game." Velma mocked. She reached behind her back, pulling out a rod that deployed to about arm's length. The rod crackled with electrical energy. Velma took her own combat stance.

"This all just a game to you?" Morgan cried swing the pike at Velma's head.

"Of course." Velma easily side stepped the attack. Morgan had overextended herself. Velma delivered a playful zap to Morgan's bum, enjoying hearing her yelp. "Life is a game. There are losers and winners. I always win."

"Not today!" Morgan's voice was full of conviction as she took another swing. Velma and Morgan fell into a sort of dance where Morgan swung or thrust at the merc and Velma evaded or parried every strike.

"Please you're just a slave girl. And that's all you'll ever be." Velma struck Morgan's hands. The golden bikini clad girl screamed, dropping the weapon. Velma followed up by lightly jabbing her weapon into Morgan's chest.

The rounded tip tug in just under Morgan's right breast. Morgan froze in fear. A tingling sensation ran down her spine from the passive electrical current being given off by the weapon.

"You see, I always win." Velma brought the weapon up just a little bit more.

Morgan gasped as the thin silky golden fabric covering her tit was pulled aside. Her ears burned with rage and shame.

"I'll give you props for fighting me. But you were never a match…" Velma was cut off as she was swiftly impacted by in invisible force. The merc's body rag dolled against the barge's railing.

Trevor shakenly sat up, right hand extended. His ears rang and vision was blurry. Still, he found the strength to stand. Velma looked at the Mandalorian in a daze. Before she could give any sort of snarky remark, Trevor scooped up the nearest blaster and put several bolts into her body.

"We have to get to the escape craft." Trevor gasped, stumbling towards the craft.

"Trevor!" Morgan rushed over to him. Half embracing him and half supporting him.

As the small hover ship broke off from Jabba's barge, guards popped out from the hatch. They scrambled to fire weapons and get the deck gun ready. Though it was too late. The smaller craft shot clear of the barge in seconds.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime Morgan was free. That idea lingered in her mind as the now ex-slave girl watched the setting suns. Morgan glance at her Mandalorian liberator. "How did you survive?"

"The visor dissipated most of the energy." Trevor removed the damaged helmet. A fresh scar ran across his brow. "It took me a moment to come too. Sorry about that."

"Yeah a little quicker would have been nice." Morgan smiled, adjusting her golden bikini. Trevor embraced her. Tears of sorrow and joy ran down Morgan's face. The weight of everything hit all at once. One part of her wanted to push Trevor away and another part didn't want to let go.

"Shoosh… Everything is going to be alright." Trevor ran a hand through Morgan's hair to sooth her in any way he could. Words formed in his mouth, but none of them seamed right.

"I love you so much." Trevor said at last. Those words seamed right in moment.

For a moment Morgan's tears stopped. A little sheepishly she met Trevor's tender gaze. "Then promise to always be there for me."

"I will." Trevor vowed. "And promise to be there for me as well. I don't think I want to go through life alone every again. You mean so much to me."

"I promise." Morgan tilted her head ever so slightly kissing Trevor on the cheek. "Okay, by Mandalorian standards doesn't that make us married after what we just vowed?"

Trevor shrugged. "Well there are these exact lines that we would have to recite back to each other, but the sentiment is the same."

"Alright." Morgan relaxed and pulled away. "While I really do love you, I think marriage is moving too fast. Forgive me if I don't want to be chained down to anyone."

Trevor laughed, still holding Morgan's hands. "Fine by me. You know after we get to my ship, I can take you anywhere in the galaxy. Any particular place you would want to see"

Morgan shook her head. "The galaxy is a big place. Right now, I'm just grateful for the freedom to see what I can."

Epilog: A Hutt's rage

"So'ma chue laz zuv koom tull!" Jabba cursed. There wasn't an exact word in the millions of languages from across the galaxy to aptly describe the Hutt's furry.

The guards who had let Trevor escape with Jabba's slave had been tossed into the Sarlac Pit. Returning to the palace, Jabba had his current throne slave, the teal Twi'lik named Nora, fed to his pet Rancor.

A somewhat somber tone hung in Jabba's court. The Hutt hadn't been slighted this badly since the Clone Wars. Mandalorians, so it would seem, continued to be a thorn in Jabba's side. The Hutt crime lord had placed a bounty on Trevor Ordo and Morgan's heads.

A short while after the fighting tournament events, the Mandalorian armor clad bounty hunter Bobba Fett had arrived. He brought an item that satisfied Jabba's lust for vengeance.

Han Solo's frozen body was mounted as a wall decoration. It would be a reminder to all of those that dared double cross Jabba that no matter how much time passed they would suffer for their actions.

A party had been thrown. The band played a few songs as the slave girl's danced. Jabba requested that they play the Alderaanian folk song Morgan had danced too. While the lazy Hutt watched his playthings shake their bodies for his delight, he and Fett conversed.

"I tracked Solo to Bespin." Boba informed Jabba. "The Emperor's top enforcer, Darth Vader, had taken an interest in Solo as well. Apparently Solo has connections with the Rebellion and befriended a supposed Jedi name Luke Skywalker."

"Skywalker…" Jabba's fat lips mulled over the name. At one point he had met a Jedi by that family name during the Clone Wars. Solo's friend couldn't be the same person as the Jedi were dead. However, it did intrigue him.

"There's also some other juicy info about Solo's companions that I would be willing to share, for the right price."

Jabba flashed a dagger look at the hunter. While not really in the mood for games, he paid Fett.

"Rebel leader, and Alderaan's last princess, Leia Organa had been with Solo. They appeared to have a close relationship. Before his deep freeze, the princess professed her love for him, and they kissed."

Jabba's vibrant eyes locked onto the Mandaloria's T-visor and shifted to Solo's frozen form for a moment. Jabba laughed, licking his lips. Drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Jabba's mind spun with lust and a scheme. Solo's friends would come for him. Recent events left little doubt about that to Jabba. A data pad and stylist were given to the Hutt. Jabba began designing the perfect outfit for Princess Leia. Alderaan's last princess would be far more valuable than any other slave girl in the galaxy.

The band changed to a sultrier song. Jabba intently watched the show, mind already longing for the time he would have Leia on his leash. She would be the crown jewel in Jabba's collection. Jabba's haughty laugh echoed throughout the palace.

The End


End file.
